Page 178 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“Shut it.”

“Did you say something?” Matvei asks.

“Nothing,” I say, my cheeks coloring in embarrassment. I change the subject quickly before he starts to think I’m a raving lunatic. “I just feel like these kinds of missions are always going to be filled with unknown factors.”

“Fine,” he concedes grudgingly. “One man will accompany you.”

I smile triumphantly. “Great.”

“But you have to pick.”

My smile falls at once. “Oh. Um…”

“Let me come with you, Madam,” Konstantin speaks up immediately. “It would be an honor to protect you.”

Jesus.Talk about bold declarations. This is a new me and all, yes, but I don’t know if I’d call it an “honor to protect me.”

I gulp. “Please call me Elyssa. ‘Madam’ sounds… terrifying.”

He smiles. “Is that a yes?”

I nod. “Honor’s all mine,” I croak.

When the van finally comes to a stop, the men file out one by one, leaving Matvei and me behind.

“You’re not going to talk me out of this, are you?” I ask.

“No,” he sighs. “I gave up on that this morning.”

“Then what is it?”

He hesitates. Then he says, “I’ve been with Phoenix through thick and thin. I’ve known the man through his best moments, but when things are going smoothly, it’s easy to be around for that. It’s the bad times that really make you understand a person. And Phoenix… after he lost Aurora and Yuri, he became a shadow of the man he was. Until he met you.”

I try to sit perfectly still. I don’t know what to do with the torrent of emotions buzzing through me at Matvei’s words. There’s so much he’s implying that I can’t even begin to process it. Not yet, at least. And maybe not for a long, long time.

“What I’m saying is, do not die in there,” Matvei concludes. “Because if you do, he will murder me.”

I smile and pat the back of his hand. “I’m not planning on dying today. Or anytime soon, for that matter.”

“Spoken like Phoenix Kovalyov’s wife.”

“Time to show Viktor Ozol just who I am.”

He nods to me and we get out of the van together.

I’m dressed in black tights, a high-necked black sweater and combat boots. I feel like some sort of spy in an action movie.

Look good, feel good, am I right? Dress for the job you want, not the job you have? I dunno, I’m running out of motivational slogans here. Take your pick.

“When did you turn into a Sex & the City monologue?” I grumble to Charity.

But I can’t deny she’s right. It makes me feel closer to the part I’m trying to play.

Konstantin moves to my side like a shadow. I check to make sure all the weapons Matvei equipped me with are still in the right places.

“Remember,” Matvei says to me, “don’t be shy about using that gun. Stay behind the building. When you hear the explosion, that’s your cue.”

I can feel the emotion rising up inside me—the fear, the anxiety, the endless rushing thoughts—but I squash it all down. I have to stay focused.

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